


Ladies of Chaos

by maraudertimes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Reign (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Bisexuality, Community: FFT, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on FanficTalk, Crossover, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Harry Potter Next Generation, Humor, Romance, Secret Relationship, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26507242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudertimes/pseuds/maraudertimes
Summary: This summer was supposed to be fun and full of adventure, just me and my two cousins/best friends, roaming around the countryside and wrecking havoc wherever we go. I suppose Cousin James didn't get the memo, because now all anyone can whisper, gossip, or even think about is the crown prince's engagement.Now we've only got two months to buy dresses, find dates, and learn dances before his upcoming nuptiuals. If Aunt Fleur had anything to say about it, she'd lock the three of us up before we do anything to jeopordize this 'important state affair'.I mean, they don't call us the ladies of chaos for nothing!
Relationships: Lily Luna Potter/Original Male Character(s), Molly Weasley II/Henry III, Victoire Weasley/Sebastian de Poitiers
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [literal chaos fire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24340300) by [maraudertimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudertimes/pseuds/maraudertimes). 



_ It was once believed that kings were put on Earth by their God, given the divine right to rule based on their bloodline. That belief has since been eradicated. In its place (...) With the recent war and the overthrow of the tyrant king, the Riddle dynasty has been eradicated, and the time for just rulers has commenced again. A simple commoner has risen from the ashes of the devastated kingdom (...) The coronation is to take place upon his 19th birthday, the 31st of July, 1999. With the upcoming millennium, we can only hope that - _

“Do you ever think it’s weird to read about your dad this way?” I ask Lily, tapping away at my phone, only partially listening to her reading. “I mean I don’t really see Uncle Harry as a ‘just ruler’ or a ‘simple commoner’. He’s just Uncle Harry to me.”

Lily sighed, pulling her dark hair away from her face before pinning it in a low bun. “I’m not too sure. Sometimes it’s weird. Like there’s my dad, who loves me and taught me how to ride a bike when I was younger and cooks dinner with mum every sunday. And then sometimes, especially around other nobles, it feels like he’s someone else with my dad’s face, this almighty King I’ve never really met. You know?”

“I guess. Never really thought of Uncle Harry like that, to be fair.”

Lily crumpled up the paper she was reading from - a photocopy of one of the history books she was meant to be studying - before throwing it at me. “That’s because you don’t live here. You abandon me all the time to spend time in your parents castle, galavanting around your duchy.”

“Ooh, ‘galavanting’! That new tutor’s coming in handy.” I wink at her before getting pelted in the face by another paper ball.

“Hey, I didn’t ask to be a princess. Honestly, I kinda wish I wasn’t,” she sighs, picking up her pen and bringing it to her mouth.

I remember as kids, Lily would always get in trouble for nibbling on the end of her pens. Seems like she never dropped the habit. One of these days she’ll bite just a bit too hard, and hopefully I’ll be right there, cell phone in hand to snap the best picture ever.

My phone buzzes, the screen lighting up with the incoming text. “Speaking of cell phones-”

“You weren’t.”

“No, but I was thinking about them,” I explain with a wry smile. “Doesn’t really matter now. Because guess what?”

“Vic?” Lily’s eyes go wide, sparkling with excitement, and I nod in response.

Within seconds we’re racing down the palace halls, the clacking of our heels against the stone floor echoing around us. Guards jump out of our way as we careen forward, Lily holding up her skirts and shouting apologies while I shriek with laughter behind her. Even in a dress, Lily has always been faster than me. When we finally reach the entryway, the first face I see as we run down the stairs is Vic’s, and as we crash into her, she lets go of her bag and topples to the ground with us. A heap of tulle and crinoline cushion our fall.

“I’ve missed you,” Vic cries, holding us both and laughing. “You won’t believe how boring French court it.”

“ _ Victoire! _ ” Aunt Fleur gasps. “It would do you no good to repeat that here.”

Vic catches my eye and then rolls hers. “It’s true,” she grumbles for only our ears. “Now, help me bring my things up to our rooms won’t you? I’ve got presents!”

I quickly levitate one of her powder blue valises and Lily takes the other, the majority of Vic’s wardrobe having already been delivered last week when I had gotten here. Honestly, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she bankrupts her parents with her fashion addiction soon enough, although I suppose with Aunt Fleur’s family money, it might take a few years.

By the time we make it to Vic’s rooms, I’m sweating. Levitation only goes so far in taking the weight of the object, and the valise is  _ heavy _ . The first thing I do is drop the valise that I’m 90% certain is not her clothes but in fact books onto the floor - to which Vic yelps - and then fall over onto one of the luxurious velvet couches. 

“You dumbass, your presents are in there!” She hurries to the valise and opens it, revealing dozens of differently patterned fabrics.

“How are gowns that heavy?” I ask, blowing a tuft of hair that came out of my ponytail on our journey. “Also I refuse to wear a corset.”

Vic picks out one of the fabrics and unravels it to reveal not a gown, but a bottle of wine. “They aren’t gowns, it’s wine. And thank goodness you didn’t shatter any of the bottles! French wine is so much better than Hogwartian.”

“Anyways,” Lily says, walking over and unwrapping another bottle, “we know better to buy you a gown, you heathen.”

She walks over to sit beside me and hands me the wine. I quickly fish out my pocket knife and waste no time in opening the bottle, and soon we’ve gone through five or six of them, I honestly can’t keep count. It may only have been a few weeks since I’d seen Lily, but it’s been months since either of us have seen Vic, and texting only goes so far.

“... and then I walked in on the Viscount and the Marquise! Honestly, I’m not sure why they thought a broom closet was the right place for a hookup.”

“But weren’t you looking for a place to hook up?” Lily asks, her words slightly slurring as her head bobs up and down aimlessly.

Vic takes another swig from the bottle in her hand. “Well yes, but I’m not married, so it’s not as scandalous!”

“A drunken tryst with a stable boy? Aunt Fleur would think that’s plenty scandalous,” I retort, gesturing for her to pass me the wine. We dissolve into giggles, barely able to continue the conversation.

Aunt Fleur was, out of the whole family, the most uptight about title and respectability. That tends to happen when you’re born into nobility instead of it being appointed to you. Although marrying Uncle Bill gave her a duchy, the decidedly less-than-aristocratic nature of our family probably gave her hives, on account of the French court being so judgemental. It didn’t help that they were the Hogwartian diplomats to France, so she couldn’t even escape the ire of so many other noble women who were upset that Uncle Harry’s new nobility class didn’t seem to mind marrying far below their station. Now Aunt Fleur outranked them, and even though she was a noble, her rise from daughter of a baron to a Duchess could not have led to many friends back home.

Of course, her uptightness is considered one of the funnier aspects of our family. Sometimes we cousins enjoy betting on how long it will take her face to turn red once Uncle Bill gets a couple glasses of brandy in him. The man loves to talk, and doesn’t seem to have the ‘noble filter’ as we like to call it.

Just as I’m about to take another drink from the bottle (it is the sixth, I’ve just counted the empties we rolled into a corner), Lily’s phone starts to buzz. She checks it but quickly presses the ignore button. Next is mine.

“That’s strange,” I muse. “An unlisted number…”

Lily reaches for the bottle and I pass it off. “Mine too. I swear if this was another leak and I have to change phone numbers again I’m going to have a breakdown. Three cell number changes this year alone! The paparazzi really need to find more interesting people.”

Almost as soon as I ignore the call on my phone, Vic’s starts to buzz. “For bloody Uncle King Harry’s sake!” She cries, before picking up. “What?!”

“Victoire Weasley? I was wondering if I could get a comment about your cousin’s upcoming nuptials?” The voice blasted through Vic’s phone speaker, a bit muffled as though the person talking were outside.

“I’m sorry?” Vic glanced at Lily and I but we both shrugged. “None of my cousins are getting married.”

The voice continued, all pleasantries apparently forgotten. “Your cousin James? The crown prince of Hogwarts? He’s just gotten engaged.”

“No comment,” Vic spat out, then quickly hung up the phone.

We both looked over at Lily, whose face had gone sheet white. The bottle of wine slipped through her fingers and thumped against the plush white carpet, spilling like the blood that had drained from her face.

“What. The. Fuck.”


	2. Careful, Love

I’m in the armoury, polishing my sword and waiting for Lysander to return. As one of the king’s guards, he was asked to accompany the French monarchy from the airport to our castle this morning, but Lily told me not to wait up. Apparently one of the French princes escaped his security detail and it took an hour for the guards to find him. But it’s no matter to me, I can get some practice in as I wait. Besides, practising my sword work clears my mind.

The last few days had been hectic. James had indeed proposed to his girlfriend, Claude, the princess of France, and the castle had been turned upside down. Aunt Ginny nearly blew up the south tower after finding out via tabloid, and all pretenses of a normal summer were thrown out the window. Not only would this engagement require a party, but now James was saying he wanted to be married by the end of August.

Party planning had taken my relaxing summer and dumped me with dozens of appointments throughout the week. First there were the dress appointments - the fittings of the engagement party dress, a midnight blue one with tiny gemstones woven throughout in the shapes of subtle constellations; then meetings about the dress for the eventual wedding. The first ones I could get through fine, since all I had to do was stand there and turn as Genevieve instructed, but the second ones were torture.

Lily and Gen had decided that I was going to be wearing a baby pink ‘gown’ with so much tulle I’m terrified I’ll look like a cupcake. Each meeting Gen has a slightly-altered design of the previous meeting, with new swatches of fabric for Lily to touch. Every so often they ask my opinion, but the only thing I demanded was no corset. Gen laughed, so I’m not entirely sure that will take…

The only thing getting me through them is knowing Vic is having just as tough a time convincing Gen to make the dress more form-fitting, more low-cut. Her name may sound french, but Genevieve does not make her dresses that way.

Of course then there are the extra lessons on manners and curtseying and courtly affairs. Within the next week hundreds of international nobility, including many of the French court, will be at the castle, and the Potter’s PR guru, Minerva, has insisted on everyone brushing up on their knowledge. Even I know not to disagree with Uncle Harry’s right hand lady.

The blade under my hand is gleaming, but I keep polishing, happy to be given a moment’s rest. Until…

“Careful, love. You could end up blinding someone with that thing,” a husky voice whispers from beside my ear. The warm breath tickles my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

I leap up, twisting to send the tip of the sword up to gently stop against the intruder’s chin. The blonde boy at the end of my blade smirks, blue eyes shining back at me in the dim armoury lights. “I suppose I could.”

The boy laughs, reaching out for a handshake. “Sorry, didn’t mean to underestimate you.”

A beat goes by before I let the sword fall back to my side. My hand reaches out to grab his, but before I can shake, he pulls me closer and brings my hand to his mouth, leaving a delicate kiss across my knuckles.

“Henri. I’m charmed.”

Heat rises in my cheeks as his eyes don’t leave mine. “I’m sure you are.”

 _And now you’re getting cheeky._ I can practically hear Vic’s words from here.

“What were you planning to do after shining your sword?” Henri asks, my hand firmly planted in his.

“Waiting for a friend. We’re supposed to spar before the banquet.”

Henri looks me up and down, taking in the small chainmail bodysuit I’ve got on. “Well far be it from me to get in the way of a sparring match.”

He tugs me closer and I instinctively drop my sword to bring my other hand up to push against his torso but he dodges my hit, quickly scooping up the sword handle from the air and turning in an instant to swing the blade at my neck before just stopping. The sharp edge of the steel kisses the edge of my chainmail, and a slight heat emanates off the friction between the blade and my impenetrable charm.

“You can’t expect me to spar without my sword, can you?” I ask, my hands raising to hover near my ears. “Bit unfair, a young man such as yourself, stealing my only weapon? Leaving me so vulnerable?”

Henri chuckles, his beautiful lips turning up at the edges. “Love, I doubt that you’re ever vulnerable.”

I quickly snatch the dagger in the pocket behind my neck and parry away the sword, sliding steel against steel until I’m close enough to grab his swordhand with my own and turn, swinging my elbow up to stop just before his jaw, the point of my dagger nestled against my chainmail. My sword clatters from his grasp to the ground beside us.

“Wise choice.” My breath is fast, the adrenaline rushing through me. It suddenly occurs to me how close we are. My right hand is wrapped around his, my back against him as I look across my shoulder.

“If I weren’t a gentleman, this would be an incredibly compromising situation,” his low timber barely reaches my ear as a lock of his hair falls across his forehead.

Then, like throwing water onto a fire, a voice pipes up from the door. “That is, if you didn’t have a chaperone. And if Molly was the type of girl to care about compromising situations.” I step away from Henri immediately, sheathing the dagger back in the small pocket on my back. Lysander strides over and picks up my sword, examining the hilt for damage. “Don’t go breaking my presents, Molly.”

“Sorry, Lys. You weren’t back yet and I didn’t know when you would be.” I take back my sword and sheath that too, before making my way over to my practice bag and fishing out my phone. “Henri was just making conversation.”

“ _Henri,_ ” Lysander spits out, “is the reason I’m late. Your Highness, your Queen Mother wishes for you to meet her in her chambers before your welcome banquet.”

My phone falls to the floor - protective case, you are the only reason it’s not shattered already - as I look up to see Henri’s sheepish face. Of course, the strange new boy in the armoury is one of the visiting princes. Who else would be this new to the castle? Minerva’s etiquette lessons ring in my ears, but having already pressed a blade against his neck, I’m not sure a curtsy is required.

“Prince Henri, I’m so sorry,” I stumble over myself. “If I had known…”

Henri runs a hand through his hair and smiles easily. “You wouldn’t have threatened my life? That’s alright, love. I’m sure you can make it up to me another time.”

With that he turns and saunters off, leaving Lysander and I to stare after him. It’s a nice view, if I do say so myself.

“I’ve got to go make sure he makes it to his mother’s chambers,” Lysander sighs. “‘ _By force if necessary!_ ’”

The shrill sound of his impersonation of the queen has me giggling as I shove him out the armoury door. “Go on then. I’m not going to stick around, so find me later alright?”

After a promise that he would in fact find me after his shift, Lysander leaves, and I’m left alone again. As fast as I can I strip my chainmail and weapons off my body and shove them into my locker. Then, scooping my phone off the floor (unbroken screen and all), I find myself running through the halls towards Lily’s rooms.

* * *

“I just threatened the prince of France!” I shriek as I open Lily’s doors. Vic is there, lazing on a chaise longue and picking at a bowl of cherries while scrolling on her phone, but Lily is nowhere to be seen. “Could this start an international incident? Will Catherine de’ Medici _kill me?_ ”

Vic’s head pops up from her phone and smirks. “Don’t worry, Henri gets threatened at least three times a day at French court.”

“But the Queen Mother…?”

“Yes, she’s usually the one threatening him. He’s somewhat of a handful for her.”

“Even if you did threaten him, Dad will figure something out,” Lily’s voice drifts out from her closet. “Or we can follow through with it. Between the three of us I’m sure we could hide a body.”

Falling over onto the chaise longue - and Vic - I let out a dramatic sigh. “I wanted Catherine to like me! If she’s here all summer I wanted to learn from her!”

Catherine de’ Medici, the world’s greatest potioneer was staying in the same castle I was, and instead of making a good first impression at tonight’s banquet, I sparred with her son, disrespecting all the rules of etiquette, and was probably a bit too coy. Let alone that compromising position is now definitely compromising - to my studies!

Potions and swordplay are the two things I can say I excel at better than any of my cousins. Albus is also skilled at potions, but that skill doesn’t translate to interest, and Rose is too much of a recipe follower to allow for much improvement, though she tries. And it doesn’t get much better than learning from the great Potioneer Queen to really improve my understanding. Now I’ve gone and fucked it up - Catherine de’ Medici has a reputation as a bit of a mother bear when it comes to her children, even the adult ones.

Lily comes out from her closet in a fluttery, forest green dress. “From what I heard, Henri was on the lam. I doubt she’d hold that against you,” she says, walking over to her mirror, “when she was probably cursing him just the same in her rooms.”

She twists and turns, smoothing down areas of her dress as she sees wrinkles invisible to my eyes. The colour is spectacular on her, complementing her freckled skin and red hair. She starts pulling her hair up and letting it go, testing mock hairstyles for tonight’s banquet.

“Alright, well if I am to be poisoned tonight, will you at least let me borrow one of your dresses, Lilz?” I put on my most innocent smile as our eyes catch in the mirror.

If she wasn’t prepared for this, her planning skills would be put into question since I ask her to dress me for every big occasion. I’m half certain she has a special part in her closet reserved for dresses I’ll eventually borrow.

Vic laughs as she points at Lily’s bedspread. “She got that out before changing.” A beautiful midnight gown is lovingly draped across the bed.

“Oh, Lily have I ever told you that you’re my favourite cousin?” I walk over to peck her on the cheek.

“Hey! I’m right here!”

I throw a wink at Vic who sticks her tongue out at me. “Lily buys me dresses.”

Vic throws her hands up in the air, sending her phone flying back to bounce on the large bed. “I thought that would automatically take her out of the running!”

“It should,” Lily muses, her eyes still taking in every detail of her forest gown. “Now, Vic you should go get dressed as well. I’ve got hair and makeup coming in fifteen, and if we’re late to this banquet, mum will have our heads.”

After Vic retrieves her phone, she walks over to stand beside us, the three of us together. “Tonight will be fun won’t it?”

I wrap an arm around Lily and Vic does the same over mine. We look similar enough to be sisters, the trademark Weasley red hair burning bright atop each of our heads, and a glint of Weasley mischief in our eyes.

“Absolutely.”


End file.
